


stars above us

by highrollers



Series: skylights are bright sometimes [1]
Category: Blaze and the Monster Machines
Genre: Axle City, Axle City Garage, Backlands, Dragon Isles, Gen, Monster Dome, Orange Island
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 07:48:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24347530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/highrollers/pseuds/highrollers
Summary: the thing about running away from your past is that it will always come back to find you, no matter what shape you take.the thing about being good is that sometimes it isn't enough.the thing about everything is that they always have a catch.this tells about how bad things can get in a near-perfect world, and how much is everyone willing to sacrifice to see it as it was before.this is change, and not everyone is willing to meet it.but some are. and this is their story...[in other words, a story about what happens if Blaze lost control and Crusher was actually good (at least a little) and everyone is hurting somewhere. and humans. lots of humans to be exact. ig a dark take on the show if you want to put words in my mouth]
Series: skylights are bright sometimes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1757830
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	1. the start before it starts

**Author's Note:**

> wowie, this took a lot of time and effort but here is the (hopefully) better second draft of the story. I'm not aiming for perfection but i hope to resolve more plot holes, relate this to the show i'm basing it off a lot more so it doesn't feel like a total stranger and/or og and make it generally more likeable! still follows the old draft on wattpad too (i'm going to expand this note later i need to sleep it's 11pm fsfsjhfwae). either way, i hope this is just as enjoyable as the first.

It dappled the skies with burnishing light, evanescing into a cloudy shade.

Sparkling stars mapped up on the ever-shifting canvas that is the sky, and a growing boy tracing them with his index finger, sparkling outline shining gold before fading. A small notebook made of paper, an antique considered by many, laid open at a page filled with fledgling sketches of the night sky and constellations as well as other miscellaneous doodles. Not perfect, far from it, but in that moment with his back to the fresh dewy grass and the sunrise dawning in front of him (giving him a wide view of the horizon), he found his calm at last.

Until the watch on his wrist beeped an alarm for 6:17am.

And then it was him running as fast as he could, notebook tucked in his jacket as he laughed and tripped a few times (not that he would ever admit it) and ran some more, holding back nothing as he felt his legs burn with effort and the wind whipping his scarf around. And even though he was only getting closer to the city he ran away from in the first place, he blocked out the nightmares and tried to remember his friend who was probably awake and worried sick.

Not for the first time, he stopped a few metres away from the signpost. These days, something keeps on nagging him, and thoughts would race the hardest when he was at the edge of the city. He wondered at that feeling nibbling at him every time he remembered something (like he forgot something else), he wondered was it really worth it to go back to the same old monotonous life and he wondered with every bit of his small tiny heart did he have to? Was there really no other place for him to go? Was there really someone who cared for him here?

Huffing into his scarf, he watched the fogged air rise before dissipating. Maybe these questions had answers. Maybe they didn’t. But they had no place in the here and now.

And so, not for the first time, he continued his run again, weighted once more.

“What are you doing here?”

There was a clatter, a few bangs and a bit more sharp words before he managed to crawl out of the heap he made. The girl watched him, clearly unamused as oil leaked onto the pavement which turned into a dark black mess.

“What is your toolbox doing here?” he snapped back as he tossed out a screw that snuck into his sleeve. “In fact, what are you doing here in the first place?”

She just wrapped her too-big overcoat and walked back inside the building once more. He followed her to a blast of heat and warmth and made himself at home by sitting right under the heater. She shook her head knowingly as she returned to her couch and huddled under the blankets she was in before the noise startled her awake.

“You do know that I’m allowed to stay in here, since it is part my house.” Her coat hung by the closed door, barely ruffled next to the closed windows. Rain softly pattered on the ground and mixed with the oil stain as the tools outside glisten in the morning rains. _We’ll clean it later_ , she thought, despite the fact that her tools were more likely to rust and the oil would be even more difficult to wipe away.

He, in contrast, was slightly irritated due to his run-in with the toolbox and the adrenaline coursing through him, but he refrained from saying anything worse than “Well it’s part Watts house more.”

“But you have to admit it’s also my house, AJ.”

AJ reined in a huff. Two years later and she still manages to be on top, no matter how much metaphoric fuel he has to his arguments. Instead he just settled for listening to the sound of the heater, taking off his boots and directing his toes to the warmth, knowing just as well they had to clean up the mess they left outside.

The girl gave a small smile. Then frowned. “Why were you out in the first place?”

“Because Gabby,” he drew out the name, forcefully emphasizing it, “some people need breaks from the finish line, okay? You might win all the arguments, but this one is not. So please leave it alone.”

Gabby opened her mouth, saw his dark look, and then closed it again. 

It was silence once more. Blank walls greeted them, the first floor full of unopened boxes because she already had someplace to live and the thing about having two homes is that you will ultimately have to pick between them. So the boxes stayed unopened and the walls stayed in mismatched colours because this was not the place she would make a fight in. Years living in the city has taught her enough about how they played games here.

It was silence one more because he knew he was stalling, hiding away like usual; he doesn’t want to come back to his own home because he knew that his friend would either be already up already looking for him or helping out. Maybe both. He was always a good multitasker, especially when it came to the life of the one small boy and maybe he didn’t want help? Maybe he wanted to be alone with the background noise of the heater quietly warming him up. Maybe he didn’t need anyone’s help at all.

His hands itched behind the gloves. Her fingers twitched with anticipation.

He broke first. Like always.

“Besides,” he rambled, looking at anywhere but her tired face, “where were you in the last race? I didn’t hear any obnoxious booing coming from your end.”

She broke last but with booming laughter so he counted it as a win. “I cannot believe you didn’t notice. You have heard of Watts’ leaving to chill out with Pegwheel, right?”

“Yeah? So?”

“So,” she rolled her eyes at his clueless expression, “she’s going for a long while, and I have every right to say bye to her and miss the race. Besides, the _gist_ of it was very clear.”

“I didn’t explain properly!”

“You _always_ explain properly!”

And as they argued, the rain cleared up revealing oil mixed with water in hazy rainbow shades and tools catching the strengthening light of the 8 o’clock sun. And they (although reluctantly) got up from their cozy places and picked up and polished the toils to gleaming perfection and wiped the pavement to the best of their ability.

It was all well and good, until a flashing light drew closer and closer towards them.

This is where the story starts.


	2. running the fever (sporting the looks)

Blaze, in fact, felt a bit more calm than usual--although the nightmare-less sleep he had last night may have played a part in it. He managed to read the note without shouting his head off, deliver all the important parcels and also managed to find a nice place that he really wanted to show his best friend.

Yes, best friend. He didn’t care if all the others thought about how weird it was for him to be friends with a human, didn’t care if it was strange or unbecoming or just-

He wasn’t going to think that far. Not when he had his first nightmare-less sleep in a long time.

So with the last few packages in his trunk and a distinct knowing of where his driver is, Blaze went forward.

Blaze changed his mind a few half-hours later. This day definitely could’ve gone better.

Road constructs and bad traffic had slowed him to the point that he felt so… in a way, his own way he figured, so _unbelievably_ tired. Of everything.

He wanted to stop. He wanted to go, go, go. He felt a thrumming inside him, beating to the time of his thoughts.

Maybe a little, he thought. It wouldn’t hurt to borrow a little bit of his own power, even though it has been mightily unstable these last few months.

And this is where it starts.

The light grew brighter and brighter before it hit them.

Then it was them tumbling, the light skidding away unsteadily before streaking back to get them.

A few seconds. That’s all they had.

And then the kids were running for their life, AJ’s legs burning for the second time that day, Gabby barely able to keep up as they passed by streets and ignored road rules. Trucks passing by had expressions ranging from oblivious joy to rush hour to that face that says ‘I wonder what those kids are up to’. By the time they got to the Garage (which normally would have taken 5 minutes anyhow), the girl fiddling at the door desperately with a muttered “Why today of all days, darn it!”, the light slammed to a break-neck stop.

Shuddering, screeching, halt that lasted for seconds but was enough for a lifetime. Then a, “Blaze?”

The so called truck winced, looking apologetic. “Hey guys?” His tyres were more worn out than usual, and when AJ put his gloved hand on his friend's bonnet, even he winced at the heat. 

“You okay buddy?” he gingerly replied back. He shook it off with one of those bright toothy smiles he always had and unloaded the last of his parcels, knocking it (gently) towards Gabby. “Here are the tools you ordered.”

She squealed in anticipation and unwrapped it on the spot, not even bothering to go inside. But before Blaze could inch off with his driver in tow (he was so glad to see him again so happy so worried so-) the driver in question stopped him in his tracks with a, “You need fixing.”

Blaze looked down at him with something that someone might call hollow-cheeked before giving in with a sigh. And with a whistle, a glare, a warm drink blowing off steam on the counter, dust from new tires and a whole lot of cranking and coughing later, the maroon truck felt better than new (although the ache in his engine or somewhat around it wouldn’t go away) but for their sake he gave a smile that he hoped was a lot more convincing. They grinned back and Gabby shooed them out with Blaze’s forced promise to “Not Blazing-Speed when he didn’t need it and actually come when it was his time for a check up because now most of her free time was wasted on them two not that it was useless or anything--”

And he was gone, speeding off with a subtle tap on his power (because he needed to feel the rush of air on his side which was burning up [but he hid it so well and it wasn’t that bad so it didn’t really matter] and he was his own person, not someone to be bossed around by a 13 year old) towards the perfect place.

“Are you okay?” he nearly asked as they looked towards the edge of the bluff they were perched upon, the afternoon light dappling the plains below. The truck sighed as he shifted unsteadily, still splayed like a cat trying to capture the sun’s warmth, and AJ barely held back a stifled giggle at the way he was so… so- 

“You got anything on your mind?” he asked instead, hoping that it would be the right question to ask. If anything, the silence that dripped between them before Blaze just got up and left without a word said volumes about the touchy subject and less about the question itself. The boy reined in a sigh and followed him, not bothering to soften the next blow.

“Seriously, you were burning up just minutes ago! You’ve barely been sleeping well, and you can barely use Blazing Speed without hitting someone like you never used it before. I don’t know what’s gotten into you but you need to snap out of it and soon. Otherwise I cannot help you.”

Blaze looked back at him, noting his heavy breathing, fisted hands (which shake oh-so-slightly) and determined gaze. Then he looked down at a reflection of himself on a nearby puddle and noted the dark smudges underneath his eyes. The difference between them was too vast to calculate, but as the days passed he could feel himself getting further and further away.

It would not do.

So Blaze drove over to the nearest tree which overlooked a ledge, and motioned for his driver to sit next to him. AJ gave him a weary smile and did so, resting a gloved hand on his knee while looking out to the horizon dappled with afternoon shades of blue and rose. “What?”

“I know that… it looks like I’m avoiding you, but you need to understand I’m doing this for your own good.”

“Like how you had to remind me of what happened Before was for my own good,” he huffed bitterly, placing his hand flat on his knees to quell his anger.

“I didn’t know that it would set you off! It was a nightmare and nothing more, the result of getting regretfully drunk with the others after another victory. Besides you were the one to pester me about it!”

The boy got up suddenly, dusting off his pants and fixing up his casual jacket. As a kid, he wouldn’t be caught dead without his racing clothes, but after getting into multiple situations with it being unable to be worn (situations he would not expand on) he opted to scavenge some up. Some were too big, just like her ones, and some were a little small, but he wouldn’t make a fuss. It was a wonder there were any spare clothing at all, let alone functioning ones. 

Just one of the many things about being a human, not to mention being one of the two existing.

Blaze got up to do something, maybe chase down the boy, give an apology among thousands already given, but before he could he heard a whisper.

“You only come running for me when you need my help.”

Blaze couldn’t help it. 

He exploded, and in the burning bright light he could just barely make out the rest of the words, reflected in his eyes a rich brown of tilling land.

“And I don’t know if I have any left.”


End file.
